The Soaked Bean

Seeking Nourishment, Finding Traditions

Braised Butternut Squash + Polenta: Fast Slow-Food

By

braisedsquashwebfinal

During nutrition workshops or consultations at some point the following question invariably comes up: how do I cook nutritious meals fast?

Maybe you, dear reader, are currently pondering the same thing.

I feel you.  All of you.  As someone who’s comfortable in the kitchen and who also really enjoys spending time there, I’ve definitely asked myself this question on many a tired Thursday night.  It’s a big one.

Everything’s moving at an increasingly rapid pace, culturally speaking.  We’re working longer hours to pay for growing expenses, spanning greater distances in shorter amounts of time, mining deeper for gases, rare metals, data.  The possibilities are limitless, expansive, vast, if only we had the time.  Time could be said to be our most precious commodity and we allocate it accordingly, seeking the fastest solutions for problems, not least such corporeal ones like what to eat tonight.

The free time we have is typically spent on leisurely pursuits—taking a walk, meeting a friend for a drink, and, more often than not, looking at a screen.  Whether it’s the news or a premium-cable series or a 90’s romcom or a video-game or an instagram feed from someone living in the wilds of Maine or Los Angeles, it’s no surprise that at the end of a long and stressful work day, we want nothing more than to plug into some other story to unwind.

And while there’s nothing inherently wrong w/ this, what’s happened is that the time for cooking, preparing a nourishing meal, has been reallocated and what nourishment we receive is a byproduct of convenience which, as we all know, is never what it’s cracked up to be (see: the tv dinner, the happy meal, the delivery pizza).

Cooking, in my opinion, is self-care just as stretching in the morning, showering on a regular basis, brushing your teeth, drinking enough water and getting some good sleep are; it should be part of our daily routine.  But it isn’t.  We’ve never been taught to integrate it into our routines as we have those other things which brings me back to that commonly-posed question.

How do I cook nutritious meals fast?  Where do I start?

Start here, with a butternut squash, some polenta, some spinach.  This is a recipe for what I like to call fast slow-food.  Fast because you’ll spend 15 minutes doing something–chopping or whisking or stirring.  Maybe 20 if you’re new to the kitchen.

Slow because the rest of the hour or so until dinner is served can be spent doing whatever it is you do to unwind.  Meanwhile a series of chemical reactions will be working for you, transforming squash, spinach, corn into nourishing meal.

There’s no secret trick or secret soy-based-shake for this.  Cooking takes practice and a bit of planning and, yes, a bit of time.  But by learning to make a few, simple recipes it will get easier and easier to incorporate them into your daily routine.  To make nutritious meals (relatively) fast.

Who knows?  Maybe the more time you spend in the kitchen, the more you’ll enjoy being there.  Dear reader, it happened to me.

Braised Butternut Squash + Polenta

Note: I haven’t cooked butternut squash in ages, mostly because I disdained peeling it.  B/c it’s braising for such a good amount of time, there’s no need to peel–the skin softens up beautifully and can be eaten.  Otherwise, you can easily scoop the squash from the skin. 

Adapted from Ottolenghi’s Plenty More

For the Squash:

  • 1 butternut squash, sliced in half lengthwise then sliced in 3 sections
  • 1/2 cup chicken bone-broth
  • 1 knob butter
  • 5 pods cardamom, crushed
  • 4 bay leaves
  • 1 teaspoon whole black pepper
  • 1 teaspoon whole cumin seeds
  • 1 teaspoon whole coriander seeds
  • 1 section of orange rind
  • couple of pinches salt
  1. Turn oven to 200C.  While oven heats, place squash bottom-side down in a large braising pan.  Pour broth over and add herbs and spices.  Add dabs of butter on top of squash.
  2. Place in oven and let braise for 45minutes-1hour, until soft. Occasionally, spoon broth over squash while braising.

For the Spinach:

  • 1 big bunch spinach, roughly chopped
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 knob ghee
  • couple of pinches salt
  1. Place cast-iron pan on medium-heat.  Add ghee.
  2. Add garlic and salt and cook until fragrant.
  3. Add spinach and stir, cook for 10 or so minutes, until deep green.

For the Polenta:

Note:  For maximum digestibility I soak my polenta overnight in warm, lemony water. 

  • 3 cups chicken bone broth
  • 1 cup water
  • 1 cup course polenta
  • 1 knob butter
  1. Bring bone-broth and water to a boil in a large sauce-pot on the stove.
  2. Whisk in polenta and turn heat down to low.  Cover and let cook for 30-45 minutes, giving the polenta a good whisk every 10 minutes or so.
  3. Turn heat off and add butter, stir.

Layer polenta, spinach and squash on plate.  Serve w/ a good grate of parmigiano, glug of olive oil, and sprinkle of salt.

Chamomile-Cinnamon Bitters

By

bitterherb

It happens every year.  About two weeks before the Equinox, the official start of Spring (which, by the way, happened yesterday, hooray!), I start to feel tired.  Bone-tired, wiped-out, exhausted, more so than during the darkest days of Winter.  It seems counter-intuitive.  These are the days when pale, perfect buds are shooting out from the ends of branches, when there are suddenly snowdrops, and primrose, and dead nettle, and daisies, when there is light, sweet and strong, filtering through window flung-wide.

Window flung-wide and light suffusing every corner of our rooms, all the dust, the things that have been, to quote Alanis, under-rug-swept.  Light suffusing every corner of our lives, all the things that have been packed away, shoved in drawers, stashed out of sight, out of mind.

vodkaherb

This Winter, not unlike a squirrel, I’d developed this habit of stuffing things in my wardrobe.  That sweater I wore three days ago that was still sprawled across the couch?  Into the wardrobe.  That care package I’d prepared weeks back that was still sitting on the coffee table?  Into the wardrobe.  The half-finished pair of baby socks meant for an expecting friend?  Into the wardrobe.  That pair of copper-colored sequined pants I wore for my awkward outfit birthday party months ago?  Crumpled somewhere between lots of other things in the wardrobe.

cham

This past year has been transitional for me, in so many ways.  There have been lots of changes, big ones, continent-sized ones and I’m not just talking about geographic location.  It’s forced me to reckon with attachments to well-worn roles and patterns that have kept me in a kind of headlock.

Transition occurs in uncharted waters and the emotions it brings can be ones we’d rather pack away, shove out of sight, than face, feel.  My stashing away of these minor parts of my life was pointing to a resistance of facing some much needed change.

shake

The passing of Winter to Spring brings all kinds of changes and it can be an exhausting, not least because of all the things that suddenly come to light.

Maybe this is the reason Spring’s become, at least in many a health circle, detox season.   Light falls on all parts of ourselves, even the parts that we’d rather not see, that we’d rather shrug off.  It can reveal the need for transition or change and with it emotions we’d rather not deal with, ones we’d rather squirrel away.

It’s a lot more comfortable to think that we can strip away these parts of self, we can cleanse, be cleansed, be clean, be new.

There are many science-based reasons (further elucidated here) not to detox, but there’s also this more touchy-feely one:  detoxing is a bit like shoving every out-of-place thing in the wardrobe.  Your home may look tidy, but keep it up and, eventually, those things are going to start spilling out.  And you’re going to need to deal with them.  To sort through them.  And, perhaps even, to integrate them–to forgive, to accept, and in doing so to open ourselves up to, not new selves, but rather new experiences as we shift and move along the spiral dance of inner seasons.

pouringbitters

Which brings me to this jar of chamomile bitters.  A remedy, not only for digestive unease, but also to ease the effects of the challenging feels that transitional times can bring to a head.

I carry this remedy in a pocket-sized bottle wherever I go.  I place a few drops on my tongue before meals to get the digestive juices flowing and, lately, I’ve been using them throughout the day, as I sort through all my things.

I’ve found them to be exceptionally comforting in this learning to transition, to integrate, to open up toward the tulips and cherry blossoms and lilacs that are waiting to bloom.

Chamomile-Cinnamon Bitters

Ingredients

First-stage

  • 1 cup German chamomile flowers, dried
  • 1 teaspoon fennel seeds
  • 1 teaspoon cardamom pods
  • 1/2 stick cinnamon
  • 1 tiny pinch gentian (If you happen to know a local herbalist, ask her/him for a bit of this, as you really only want to use a tiny, tiny amount.  [It’s mighty bitter]).
  • Vodka

Second-stage

  • 1 orange, skin + juice
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1 cup water

Directions

  1. Add herbs to a large, lidded jar.  Pour vodka over and seal.
  2. Let sit for 4 weeks, shaking every so often.
  3. After 4 weeks have passed, strain herbs from liquid: this is your tincture.
  4. Place herbs and orange, sugar and water in a sauce-pot and simmer for an hour to make a syrup.
  5. Strain syrup from sauce-pot and mix with tincture.
  6. Pour some into a pocket-sized bottle to carry with you wherever you go.